


we've got everything to lose

by girlsarewolves



Series: Slaughter's Road [1]
Category: Wolves (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Werewolves, and also gross and sexist and so stupid, the au where Lucinda lives because that whole backstory was stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 03:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5769433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlsarewolves/pseuds/girlsarewolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor, though - Connor is potential and possibility. Connor is the night and the moon and the endless wood. Connor is lust and want and love and need; a craving that writhes under her skin and makes her body tremble like the change is upon her without her control. Connor is fresh air filling her lungs, breaking through the stale air she's been slowly suffocating on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we've got everything to lose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheYearOfTheWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheYearOfTheWolf/gifts).



> For the prompt "Concilliabule - A secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot."

* * *

If Lucinda is honest with herself, there's no love lost between her and her father. There never was, and it's a pitiful fact but one hundred percent the truth. They go through the motions of pretending to be family (it's not unlike pretending to be human), nothing more. That's how it's always been, even when her mother was alive.  
  
(She tells herself there was love between her and her mother; maybe even between her father and her mother. She's almost certain it's true, and it's been long enough since her mom died that that's enough.)  
  
It helps though, that there's affection between her and her uncle John. He's always been more father than the man who took part in breeding her. She plays her part for the sake of safety, and his quiet support makes it easier to live with lies constantly on her tongue. He cares, and his wife cares, and that's enough.  
  
Except it's not. Not anymore. Not since Connor came into town, larger than life and wilder than her wildest dreams.  
  
(Her family isn't ashamed of what they are, they say, but even in this safe haven town they live with tails tucked between their upright legs.)  
  
She's old enough to know what it is she wants, and pretending she loves her father and doesn't love Connor - that's the last thing she wants. She's old enough to strike out on her own, but everyone around her keeps tugging tight on the leash they gave her when she was too young to protest.  
  
If Lucinda is honest with herself - she fucking hates her father, her family's ways, her quiet, mundane life.  
  
It is not enough.  
  
Connor, though - Connor is potential and possibility. Connor is the night and the moon and the endless wood. Connor is lust and want and love and need; a craving that writhes under her skin and makes her body tremble like the change is upon her without her control. Connor is fresh air filling her lungs, breaking through the stale air she's been slowly suffocating on.  
  
And if her father finds out the things they've been doing - in the woods, behind the shop she keeps, at Connor's place - all the things they've done and the seed of it growing in her belly, he'll probably try to kill her.  
  
That's why they've got to kill him first.  
  
"You sure?" Connor asks her after she tells him - tells him about the baby (she's already calling it 'Pup'), tells him how her father will react, tells him what they have to do. His hands cradle her face, thumbs gently stroking. "I can take the blame, Luce, you know he'll believe the worst, maybe then-"  
  
"No." She moves her hands to hold his, smiling up at her mate. Survival and maternal instincts strengthen her resolve, she knows what she wants. She knows anything less is not enough. "I'm tired of pretending, Connor. I can't live like that anymore."  
  
There's pride and pleasure in those dark eyes she loves so much. He isn't rabid like the others whisper, just too wild for their weak tastes (just wild enough for hers).  He kisses her forehead, and if Lucinda is honest with herself, there's more love and affection and support there than any of her own blood has ever really given her. "Then we hit him fast and hard. I can strike the killing blow. As long as you're sure, this is what you want."  
  
Lucinda thinks of her mother, a woman she can scarcely recall the face of without looking at photographs. She thinks of her uncle, his dry smiles and silent understanding that are maybe meant to keep her placated more than anything else. She thinks of her father, of his disinterest in being such but his need to control her life, her choices, her future. She thinks of her family, all the splitting branches of purity and how wasted it all is on a bunch of cowards who founded a town just to play house.  
  
Lucinda thinks of the 'pup' inside her, of her and Connor's child and the life the little one deserves. She thinks of what her father will do when he knows, what he will do to his own grandchild. She thinks of herself, of Connor, of everything she wants and needs, everything she almost has and could lose forever if they don't act; compares it to everything she has (not enough, not nearly enough).  
  
She smiles up at Connor. "I'm sure."

**Author's Note:**

> Truth be told I don't really like this movie, however, I did have a lot of feelings and thoughts about Lucinda and how the plot fridged her and how little choice she seemed to have in, well, anything concerning herself. I've played around with this au a lot in my head, and I think I may try to write more in this 'verse. Also, it's been a while since I watched, so I apologize if I got anything wrong with the continuity of the film. Feedback is always appreciated!


End file.
